


lucky me, lucky that i met you

by whichlights



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Floris | Fundy Needs A Hug, Floris | Fundy-centric, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fox Hybrid Floris | Fundy, Greek Gods AU, Happy Ending, In a way, Inspired by Eros and Psyche (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), M/M, Marriage, Meet-Cute, Prince Floris | Fundy, Protective Wilbur Soot, i dont CARE if it doesnt make sense i REFUSE to write human fundy !, this wasnt beta read but i ignored calc hw for it so yknow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:47:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29416626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whichlights/pseuds/whichlights
Summary: Fundy is destined to marry a monster that even the gods fear.(obligatory disclaimer that this is NOT about the real people, this is about the characters they portray. if i could tag this without rpf, i would in a heartbeat, bc rpf is misleading as hell)
Relationships: Cara | CaptainPuffy & Clay | Dream, Clay | Dream/Floris | Fundy, Floris | Fundy & Wilbur Soot
Comments: 28
Kudos: 221





	lucky me, lucky that i met you

**Author's Note:**

> Happy valentines day fwt nation. 
> 
> this is based on the greek myth of eros and psyche ! if you don't know what that is, don't worry about it !! a lot of plot points are explained as they come up and its a fairly simple myth to follow along with. 
> 
> to the best of my knowledge i haven't overstepped any of the boundaries of the creators while writing about the characters they portray. if they were to be uncomfortable with this content, i would take it down immediately.

Fundy hated prophecies. 

He knew prophecies were important, and getting one was supposed to be special and rare. It was just that his life was already supposed to be special and rare, and adding a prophecy didn’t make him feel better. 

Fundy was a prince, part god, part magic, and he had a prophecy specifically about him. He could do with being ordinary for once. 

He kicked his legs as he sat on the cliff. He didn’t want to think about his father’s face when Fundy told him what the oracle had said. He didn’t want to think about his father’s tears as Fundy walked away. Fundy’s father loved him, Fundy knew. That’s why it hurt so much. 

Wilbur had done everything for him, but even he couldn’t avoid fate. That was the annoying, awful, terrible thing about prophecies- no matter how awful, no matter what you did, they always came true. 

Fundy was the first born son of the king of L’manburg, a prosperous nation seemingly blessed by the gods themselves. Of course it was blessed by the gods- Wilbur was a son of the king of them all, the god of storms and blood. (Or, depending on how you interpreted him, justice and family. Fundy knew he was all of the above.) 

A downside of being blessed by the gods was prophecies. There was an oracle inside the castle walls, who was consulted on almost everything. Wilbur hated consulting the oracle, and Fundy especially hated consulting the oracle, but people got upset if they didn’t. 

So when Fundy was born, Wilbur consulted the oracle, and Fundy was doomed from day one. 

Fundy, prince of L’manburg, descended from the gods, son of a king and a nymph, was to marry a monster so terrible that the gods themselves feared him. 

Wilbur was obviously distressed. He did everything in his power, hiring adventurer after adventurer to slay every monster in the area, but every birthday he consulted the oracle, and the oracle said the same thing. Wilbur kept trying. Fundy knew it was hopeless. 

Wilbur had tried so hard, but by the time the oracle changed the message, it was too late- Fundy was to be left on the top of the tallest cliff, alone, and his monster husband could come to claim him. 

So Fundy was having a  _ fucking terrible  _ birthday. 

He kicked his legs out and sighed. He was starting to get less terrified by the situation and more annoyed that it was taking so long. The growing knot in his stomach was getting worse by the minute as he waited. A monster. 

Fundy had been waiting for hours before a breeze blew directly into his face. He looked around, and heard a laugh. “What?” He demanded, standing up. “What- who- where are you?”

A bee flew over to him, landing on top of one of his ears. He flicked it off, tail twitching nervously. “Hello?” He called. 

A boy materialized in front of him, grinning, and surrounded by bees. “Hullo!” He said happily. “Are you Prince Fundy?”

“One and only,” Fundy said hesitantly. “Who are you?”

The boy smiled and started to hop around in the air, small bee wings flapping around him. “I’m the west wind. You can call me Tubbo!”

“Tubbo,” Fundy said slowly. “Okay. You’re going to take me to my husband?”

“Yep!” Tubbo grinned. “Everyone is  _ super  _ excited to meet you!”

Tubbo grabbed Fundy’s arm, and without preamble jumped off the cliff. Fundy screamed and closed his eyes, and refused to open them until he was sure that he had not fallen to his death. Carefully, he opened one eye. 

He was flying. A swarm of bees gathered at his feet, and the wind was at his back. Tubbo was laughing, waving his hand around to summon more wind and more bees. Fundy allowed himself a small laugh as he watched the fields and rivers of L’manburg blur beneath him. 

Tubbo took him up to the clouds, and then higher. “Almost there!” He promised. Fundy had to wonder what kind of monster had a minor god on his payroll. 

Tubbo set Fundy down on a cloud, in front of a glorious mansion. Fundy gawked. He was a prince, and he’d never seen a castle like this- marble and white gold, green gardens sprawling out in front, the cloud he stood on slowly transforming to a grassy road. “Is- what-”

“This is for you!” Tubbo said brightly. When he realized Fundy was just staring, he gestured towards the grand doors. “Go on.”

Fundy stepped forward hesitantly and knocked. The doors opened at his touch, opening to reveal a grand entry hall. A chandelier of emerald glittered above his head, and he started to wonder what the fuck was happening. 

He turned around and Tubbo was gone. Fundy gulped and stepped inside, gravitating to one of the stair cases up to the balcony overlooking the entry hall. He walked up, fingers trailing the gold railing, before he heard a soft voice in his ear. 

“Welcome,” the voice murmured. “Don’t be afraid. Rest. Take a bath, dinner will be soon.”

Fundy wondered if tales of Bad’s underworld were completely and utterly incorrect. “Who are you?” He called to the voice. “Where am I?”

The voice laughed. “I am your husband to be. And this is my house. Please, make yourself at home.”

Fundy nodded slowly to himself. “What’s your name?”

There was no answer. Fundy nervously stepped forward. If the monster was going to eat him or something, he was pretty sure he would have already been eaten. 

He explored enough to find a room he assumed was his own, the door open welcomingly. There was a bath ready for him, warm, with rose petals in the water. Fundy rolled his eyes a little at the theatrics, but he had been sitting on a mountain for a while, and definitely wanted to clean up. 

Fundy took a bath, and he felt infinitely better. Food would definitely help as well. Maybe this birthday wouldn’t be so bad after all. Fundy looked around his room, and found a jewelry box in a drawer by the bed. There were a few things there that Fundy was mostly uninterested in, but one thing caught his attention- the only ring in the box, sitting in its own compartment, a golden band with a cats eye jewel set into it. He picked it up and considered it for a bit before pocketing it. 

Around the time Fundy was starting to get bored with exploring his room, he was getting hungry. At about the same time, the smell of food started to waft up to him. He followed down the scent, and found a grand dining hall, set with almost every kind of food he could imagine. He sat down at one end of the table. He was alone. 

“Go ahead. Eat.” The voice had returned, almost a murmur in his ears. 

“This is weird,” Fundy said. “You know this is fucking weird, right?”

The voice’s laugh was more of a wheeze, and Fundy found himself laughing along softly. “It is weird,” the voice agreed. “I know you might be scared, but you don’t have to be. Nothing and no one can hurt you here.”

Fundy took a bite of steak. “Holy fuck, this is good. Who made this?”

“Wind spirits. They’re invisible, and they’ll stay out of your way, but they keep the place in order.” 

“Are you a wind spirit?”

The voice gave the wheeze laugh again. “I am not.”

“But you’re invisible.”

“Yeah.” The voice was soft. “I promise to do my best to be a kind and caring husband, and to give you everything you could ever desire. But you can’t see my face or know my identity.”

“Why?” Fundy asked, suddenly far too invested in this mystery. 

“It would be disastrous for us both. I’m sorry.”

Fundy let the question drop for now, more preoccupied with eating. “My compliments to the wind spirits,” he said. “They cook a mean- well, everything.”

The voice hummed. “Are you happy?”

Fundy thought about it. “I think I will be.”

“That’s all I want.” 

Fundy went back to his room, and contemplated his new situation. He laid down in bed for a while, before he heard a soft knock at the door. “May I come in?” The voice called. 

“Sure,” Funday said. Invisible but present, the body of the voice pressed against Fundy’s back, and pressed a gentle kiss to his neck. Fundy closed his eyes, and fell asleep. 

In the morning, he put on the ring. 

-

Fundy was pretty sure he’d gotten the wrong monster. 

He had a huge, beautiful castle that he could wander around in freely. He had the best goddamn cooks in the world. There were gardens, and small animals of every variety running around. There were cats, all throughout the castle and the grounds. Fundy had asked about the cats. His husband simply said he liked them.

Fundy had his husband. Who was definitely the wrong monster, because he was gentle, and kind, and had an infectious laugh, and was polite, and listened to Fundy talk about anything he wanted, and he was warm when he slept next to Fundy. 

He lay in bed, eyes closed and trying to sleep. His thoughts were so loud. Part of him was waiting for the catch. There had to be something desperately wrong, because otherwise-

Fundy gasped when he realized, suddenly no longer sleepy, and reached back to shake his husband awake. “My dad!”

“Huh?” Fundy seemed to have startled him- he caught a glimpse of a hand, scarred and tanned, before it disappeared, and Fundy’s husband was invisible to him again. 

Fundy was insistent. “My father! He spent his entire life worrying about me, and now he doesn’t know if I’m okay. I have to see him! I have to let him know I’m alive!”

“Anything for you,” Fundy’s husband murmured, and Fundy felt a kiss on his hand. “It will be done. When?”

“As soon as possible.”

“Tomorrow.”

Fundy nodded. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” A yawn. “Now go back to sleep.”

Fundy laid back down, and his husband wrapped his arms around him, a kiss on his neck. Fundy closed his eyes again, but he didn’t think he was going to be getting much sleep. 

Fundy was right. His sleep was restless, his stomach in knots. His father had lost so many sleepless nights to that prophecy, it didn’t seem fair that it was wrong. 

Prophecies were never wrong. Fundy shoved that thought aside. 

Wilbur was at his door by noon. Fundy’s doubts disappeared immediately when he saw his father, and he ran to hug him. “Dad!”

Wilbur wrapped his arms around him tightly. “Fundy, my boy,” he murmured. He sounded like he’d been crying. “I wasn’t sure what to think. I was at the cliff and a boy claiming to be the west wind showed up and promised to take me to you. And here you are!”

“I’m here.” Fundy stepped back and grinned. “Come on, let me show you around.”

“You look taken care of,” Wilbur noted as Fundy started to bring him through the castle. 

“I know,” Fundy said. “It surprised me too. But I’m happy here, honestly.”

“I’m happy for you.” Fundy knew his father well enough to know that Wilbur was holding his discomfort to himself. “Please, show me where you’ve been living. Tell me about your husband.”

Fundy talked. He showed Wilbur the grounds, the castle, they had lunch, Fundy explained the wind spirits, the cats, and the invisibility of his husband. Wilbur even seemed to be relaxing, laughing more and petting cats, until Fundy mentioned the invisibility. 

“Fundy…” Wilbur started. 

“I know,” Fundy said. “I know that part is shady.”

“I just want you to be safe,” Wilbur insisted. “I- I just want to make sure you’re not trapped here with some murderer.”

“I know.” 

“The prophecy said-”

“I know what the prophecy said.” Fundy shuffled his feet. “I was hoping it was wrong.”

“Prophecies aren’t wrong.”

“I’ll stay safe, dad,” Fundy murmured. “And maybe now you can visit more often- or maybe I could even come down to visit?”

Wilbur smiled at that, open and honest. “I would like that. I should go. Bye, my champion. Stay safe.”

“I will.” 

-

Fundy spent days thinking about his promise to his father to stay safe. And the growing doubt he had, that maybe this was all some horrible trick. This would all be solved if Fundy could just see what he looked like, just once, to prove he wasn’t a monster. Then he could rest easy, and his dad would stop worrying. 

Fundy knew his husband wasn’t invisible while they slept. He could look, just once, during the night, and he would never know, so the disaster his husband predicted would never come true. If he was a monster… 

Fundy took a knife from the kitchen and hid it under his mattress. Just in case. 

It was days before he managed to slip out of bed in the middle of the night without waking his husband, saying his sorries, saying he just wanted water. Fundy quietly crept to where a lantern stayed on the bedside table, and slipped the knife out from under his mattress. 

Holding the knife in his teeth, Fundy lit the lantern, and gasped. 

How had he not realized. 

The green accents all through the castle, the scent of clover in the air, the cats, the  _ cats eye _ in his ring. How had he not realized the imagery, how had he not seen the icons. 

He saw one of the icons now- a mask, laying on the other bedside table, a white smile. Asleep in Fundy’s bed was a man, a god, the god of luck, of chance, of chaos- Dream, his husband. 

The light flickered over him, illuminating tan and pale skin, scars, and dark freckles. Lithe muscle and blonde hair seemed to glow in the darkness. Fundy stopped, and he stared. 

Fundy carefully tried to put his lantern back, but the knife fell out of his mouth. He leaned forward to try to catch it, and a splash of oil fell out of the lantern and onto his husband’s shoulder. 

Dream’s eyes opened immediately, hissing, glowing bright green, and he looked, the cat’s slit pupils of his eyes narrowed at Fundy. “ _ Fuck _ ,” he hissed. 

“You- I-”

Dream grabbed his mask from off the table, hurriedly putting it on as he backed away, grabbing at his arm. “I warned you,” he laughed dully. “I  _ warned  _ you, and you didn’t trust me.”

“I’m sorry!” Fundy called as he backed away. 

Dream turn and ran. 

-

Fundy sat awake and alone until the morning, staring at his ring. He didn’t know what to do. He wondered if praying to the west wind would at least let him go home. But then he would be without Dream. 

Fuck, he had married a  _ god _ , and he fucked it up. 

Fundy grabbed at his ears and huffed, messing up the furry tufts at the top. There had to be something he could do. 

Well, the first step was to stand up and get moving. It was a painfully hard step. Fundy closed his eyes, and got out of bed. He started to walk through the castle without direction, just trying to keep moving while he thought of something to do. 

He needed to apologize. He needed to make it up to his husband. He had to prevent whatever disaster Dream had foreseen, because if it was Dream or a monster, Fundy  _ definitely  _ wanted Dream. 

Fundy went to the garden, and kneeled down in a patch of grass, and he started a prayer. He wasn’t sure who to- any god that was listening, really.

“I-” he croaked, throat dry. “I really fucked up. I need help. I need a way to prove myself. I need to prove my love, so I can say sorry.”

For a moment, the only sound was the gentle snoring of one of the many cats in the castle. Fundy sighed, and stood up, and turned to walk towards the front door. 

“You want to prove yourself worthy?” A voice called from behind him. Fundy turned around instantly. 

A woman stood in front of him, half ram, with shimmering rainbow hair and shining robes, a sword at her side and a shield on her back. Fundy bowed immediately. “Yes,” he said immediately. 

“After you have injured my son?” She demanded, arms crossed. “Betrayed him, distrusted him?” 

Puffy the Knight, the goddess of loyalty and valorant deeds, was standing in front of him. Fundy dipped his head. “I want to make it up to him?”

Puffy narrowed her eyes. “You want to prove yourself? Fine. You can prove yourself.” She whistled, and summoned a golden chariot pulled by rainbow sheep. She pulled Fundy onto it, and started to fly him away. 

The goddess took him to a forest, and dropped him off at the edge. “Weave cloth from the silk of the spiders that live here,” she commanded. “That will be the  _ first  _ task on your way to prove yourself. Be done by sundown.”

Her chariot took off again after that. Fundy stared after her, and started to realize the depth of what he’d gotten himself into. The spiders that lived in this forest were half the size of a man, deadly poisonous, and notoriously fast. 

“Fuck,” he muttered. 

“Well, you certainly seem unhappy.” Fundy turned to see a passing man, long hair in a braid, a pig pulling his cart for him. 

“I-” Fundy felt himself choke up, and the whole story came spilling out. “I was supposed to marry a monster, and instead I got a goddamn  _ god _ , and then I fucked it up, and now I have to do some fucking impossible shit to see him and say sorry!”

“Don’t worry. You’re luck-blessed, after all.”

“Bad luck, maybe,” Fundy huffed. 

The man laughed. “Dream is fond of you, foxboy. Why do you think I’m here?”

Fundy looked closer at him. The man grinned, revealing tusks, but held up his finger in a shushing motion. “The Knight would be upset if she knows I interfered. But, since you seem so desperate, I’ll tell you a secret. There’s enough silk caught on bushes at the edges of this place to make a decent blanket. You don’t have to fight any spiders.”

“Th- thank you,” Fundy stammered. 

The man nodded to him. “Of course. Strategy is the way to win the war, after all.” 

The man kept on walking. Fundy blinked, and he and his cart were gone. Fundy rolled up his sleeves and got to work. 

By sundown, his fingers were sore and tired, but he had a sizable blanket of spider silk, which he presented to Puffy when she visited. She tried and failed to not look furious that he’d succeeded. 

“You think that’s all you have to do? You still have to prove yourself, prince. Come on.”

Fundy got onto the carriage without complaint. He wasn’t going to give up that easily. 

-

Puffy took him to a grain silo, and dumped a basket of flowers at his feet. “Sort these by which was picked first and which was picked last. You have until dawn,” she said before walking out. 

Fundy stared at the flowers. They all looked the exact same. He put his head in his hands. 

There was a buzz at his ears. “Hey,” a familiar voice whispered. “What’s all the buzz about?”

Fundy smiled a little, and turned around. “Hey, Tubbo.”

Tubbo smiled and sat down beside Fundy, surrounded by his bees. “I heard about your whole thing. I’m sorry.”

“It was my fault.”

“Curiosity isn’t a flaw. And don’t be too mad at Puffy, she just wants what’s best for her duckling.” As Tubbo spoke, the bees swarmed the flowers. 

“Uh, Tubbo,” Fundy started, pointing. 

Tubbo laughed. “Oh, they can do that for you. Let’s chat!”

“What… what’s up with Dream?” Fundy asked. 

Tubbo sighed. “He ran back to the Aether, hurt and burning. Puffy lost her  _ shit _ . Philza- hey, you know Phil, you’re his grandson! Philza started patching him up, and Puffy came down here to see if you were worth breaking her son’s heart for.”

“Which is where we’re at now,” Fundy sighed. 

“Techno came down to help, didn’t he?”

Fundy nodded. “I- I thought that was Technoblade, but I wasn’t completely sure until you just said it.”

“Yeah, he’s actually secretly a huge softie. Dream heard what his mom was making you do, made some sad kitty eyes at Techno, and bam-” Tubbo clapped, and all the bees gave a sharp buzz at the same time “-suddenly Techno had an urgent trip to the overworld.”

Fundy laughed a little at that. Tubbo patted his shoulder. “Get some rest, man. The bees will do your task.”

“Okay,” Fundy murmured, laying down. He fell asleep to the sound of gentle buzzing. 

-

He woke up to Puffy standing over him, arms crossed. “You most definitely did not do this.”

Fundy looked at the flowers, perfectly sorted, in what he assumed was the correct order. “The task is done, isn’t it?” He grinned. 

Puffy narrowed her eyes. “Okay. Last chance. This time, you don’t get any divine  _ help _ .” She tossed him a box. “You want to make it up to my son? Go get a diamond. From Skeppy.”

Fundy gulped. “Oh.”

“Oh,” Puffy agreed. “Go on.”

Fundy wasn’t the best with seasons, but he knew it was not quite yet spring- which meant Skeppy would still be in the underworld. Meaning he would have to get to the underworld. Somehow. 

Fundy held the box to his chest, and started walking. That was the best option. 

Dying would be an easy way to get to the underworld, but Fundy didn’t plan on dying just yet. He knew that entrances to the underworld often included rivers- so he really just hoped that if he followed the river, he would eventually end up at the underworld. 

Maybe, Fundy thought, this was Puffy’s subtle way of telling him to go away and die. 

“Psst!” Someone hissed. “Over here!”

Fundy looked to the source of the noise- a woman was waving at him from the river, smiling brightly, gills and fins dotted across her body . “Fundy! You’re Fundy!”

“Ye- yes.”

“I’m Sally. Your mother.” 

“Oh,” Fundy whispered. “I thought you-”

“Looked like a fish? It’s what I prefer, but I do have a human form.” Sally smiled at him. “Where are you off to?”

“I need to get to the underworld.” 

Sally grinned, sharp teeth visible. “Come on.”

Fundy jumped into the river and let his mother hold his hand, swimming forward faster than a carriage could have taken him. The water and river blurred, but Fundy laughed. Sally laughed too. 

Eventually, Sally stopped, and pointed at a crack in the riverbed. She pressed a shell into his hands. “This will pay your fare. Go, my son.”

Fundy smiled and hugged her. “Thanks, mom.”

He swam into the hole, and suddenly he wasn’t swimming, he was walking through a waterfall. He walked forward, showered in cold water, to face the ferryman. 

“You’re not dead,” the ferryman said. 

Fundy handed him the shell. It was a pale brown with pink on the edges. Fundy had no idea what value it could possibly have. “I would like to see the Lords of the House, please.”

The ferryman eyed the shell, and then cracked it in two. Fundy almost protested, before he saw the giant smooth pearl that was revealed. The ferryman nodded to him. “Right this way.”

Fundy tried to ignore his nerves. He was not scared. He was not scared. He was being lead through the underworld, but he was not scared. He was walking towards the castle of the lords of death, and he was not scared at all. He just wanted a diamond. 

He was lead to the throne room, where Bad and Skeppy were discussing something. Fundy cleared his throat. “Um, hello!” He said brightly. “I have a favor to ask.”

Bad gasped. “Skeppy, you didn’t tell me we were going to have visitors!”

“We weren’t.” Skeppy narrowed his eyes at Fundy. “Who are you?”

“I’m Fundy,” he said. “I was sent by Puffy to get a diamond, so I can, ah, prove myself worthy enough to marry her son?”

“What? Dream?” Bad gasped. “Oh, you’re in love with Dream? That’s so  _ romantic _ . Aw, Skeppy, did you hear that?”

“Yeah, I heard.” Skeppy rolled his eyes, and plucked a bright blue diamond out of his crown, placing it in the box Fundy had outstretched. “Here you go.”

Fundy smiled. “Uh, thank you!”

“Of course! Any time!” Bad waved to him as he left. 

-

Fundy gave the box to Puffy, who seemed utterly disappointed that he was still alive. “Hmph.”

“I’ve done every task you’ve assigned me, and I’ll do more,” Fundy said. “I just want to say sorry to my husband.”

“Fine. You have my blessing. You’re a stubborn little fox.” Puffy got in her carriage again. “Say sorry to him. If you can find him, of course.” 

“Wait-” Fundy started to call, but Puffy was very clearly not going to take him with her. Fundy groaned, and started to wonder where he actually was. He couldn’t see any landmarks he recognized, and he definitely felt lost.

“Hey, kid,” someone called. 

Fundy turned to see a man with wings swooping down towards him with a gentle smile. Fundy grinned. “Grandpa!” He hurriedly bowed. “I, uh, mean, Philza.”

Phil laughed. “You’re fine, mate. Come on, Dream’s been losing his shit watching you go through all this.”

Fundy’s heart did a flip. “Really?”

“He will  _ not  _ stop bitching about the unfairness of it all. I think George was considering putting him to sleep for a while just to give the place some peace and quiet.” Phil huffed. “Come on. I’ll take you to him.”

Philza grabbed Fundy’s arms and started to fly upwards. Fundy, who was getting pretty tired of being grabbed by gods and dragged places, just accepted it with a roll of his eyes. 

Phil flew him upwards, to the home of the gods, Aether. He set Fundy down on the path, and nearly immediately, Fundy heard a very familiar voice shouting his name. 

“Fundy!” Dream was running towards him, mask off, arms outstretched. Fundy ran towards him as well and met him in the middle with a hug. 

“Dream, I’m sorry, I-”

“It’s alright,” Dream said quickly. “It’s all alright, it’s all okay. None of that stuff matters anymore. Crisis averted.”

“Was the crisis your mother?”

Dream winced. “She means well.”

Fundy laughed, and held his hand. “Does this mean I get to look at you now?”

Dream kissed him, holding his face with one hand. Fundy closed his eyes and leaned in. Dream smelled like clover. “Yes,” he mumbled against Fundy’s mouth. “This means you get to look at me.”

Fundy smiled. “Can we go home now?”

“Anything for you,” Dream breathed. “Absolutely anything.”

**Author's Note:**

> please do not interpret this as me villainizing puffy i love her so much she just wants whats best for her duckling !!
> 
> in the original myth, eros is a monster even the gods fear bc theyre helpless to love. dream as a love god didnt make sense to me but yknow what every minecrafter fears? the wrath of rng. 
> 
> go follow me at genderfluidtechnoblade for more of my brainrot.


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